Impressions of Sakartvelo

Georgia in the Caucasus
Has expanses of green mounds, staked by the faithful
Here a stalwart white cross, there an ancient church.
Orthodoxy flows in the rivers, grows in the forests
But the Lutherans, Armenians and Islamists also thrive, somehow.
Countryside spinning away under wheel, field after field, village after village.
In cities, broken, softening, sagging, crumbling,
shells of buildings
With warm yellow lights within, a people living in ruins.
Personal property, real estate, no cash for repairs,
no buyer good enough, to cure the general malaise
– worklessness.

Give us a job, and we will follow it
Every mountain has its ore
Move and move again
Hamlet to hamlet, spreading industry, pits, reagents, plastics
Medical insurance ranks over cultural heritage
One day perhaps modernity will pass us by
But the vineyards in summer dachas will flourish forever
Orchards will provide, we will return to the land
if metals fail us.

In Tbilisi the TV tower
with flashing lights buzzing progress
pulls away from the fort and bridge and many twinkling windows
the bastions of an ancient culture, unique in language and form
stand sentinel in the night sky
As modern day kartvelebis scurry past, mobile phones stuck to one ear.